Villains by Necessity (56 page)

She did have a large sword, a magical torch, a bow, a quiver of arrows, and was standing in front' of the only non-swimming exit. Maybe she knew the way out. He forced himself out of his alert crouch and managed a winning smile. The woman was attractive, though not a patch on Kaylana or Cata, with curly dark hair and predatory eyes. She had the set and tack of an archer or woodsman, but, fortunately, she didn't seem to be wearing Fenwick's colors ... in fact, she was wearing normal brown leathers. Tasmene's companions, despite the name White Tigers, did not share his heraldic crest. But Sam didn't know this. What a lady archer was doing down in the depths of an abandoned mountain fortress, Sam also didn't know, but she might be useful.

"Well, all right," he purred. "Since the company is so attractive."

Tasmene and Fenwick can kill the rest, thought Dana smugly. I'm going to keep this one.

Dusty landed cheerfully on a pile of moss and jumped up.

"Wow! That was fun!" He looked back up the chute that had dumped him, wondering if it would be worthwhile to climb back up it and slide down again. He decided against it, after some thought, instead deciding to explore his surroundings. He trotted down a passageway, magic torch held high, long hair flapping.

The Wilderkin peeked into all the side passages he went by. Down one of them he thought he saw a flicker of movement. He hurriedly covered his torch. Far down the passage was a faint reddish glow and a faint smell of smoke reached the Wilderkin's sensitive nostrils.

"A dragon!" whispered Dusty to himself. "Maybe a big huge evil one! All sitting on a pile of coins and gems!"

Keeping his torch snuffed, he scampered silently down the hall, almost panting in excitement.

He reached the reddish glow long before he should have. It hovered in the air just about five feet from him, on a level with his chin.

"That's odd," he muttered, and took out his torch.

Bright flared, illuminating and revealing the source of the red glow and the smell of smoke as a gray clay pipe held in the teeth of a person about the same size as himself. A very short little man, of older middle age and Barigan by his build, with wide blue eyes and a battered hat that he raised in greeting.

"Hullo!" said the Barigan.

"Hello!" replied Dusty. "Hey, I thought you were a dragon but I guess you aren't because you're a Barigan, right? I fell down a big tunnel when the floor opened up and everyone else fell down too but I don't know where they are now. Here, are you one of the villains?"

"Me?" replied the Barigan. "O'course not, laddie! What villains? I but live here."

"You live here?" asked Dusty in amazement.

"Aye, o'course. I'm from Bariga. Barigans live underground, you know that:.."

"Oh yes!" replied Dusty hurriedly. "I always wondered about that, I mean, we Wilderkin live in trees mostly, at least the wild ones do, and they have foxdogs and things but I don't have one, I had a hamster for awhile but Tesubar made me get rid of it. He made me get rid of the sparrow too, and I had a goldfish for awhile but one day he was talking about doing a spell and then I couldn't find my goldfish so I guess he got rid of that too.

My name's Dusty Corners, what's yours?" finished the Wilderkin happily, extending a small hand. Arcie took it and shook it in a friendly manner.

"Timlin Marzipan, at yer service," replied Arcie cheerfully.

"So ye fell down a tunnel, then?"

"Oh yes, it was such fun! I fell and slid for soooo long, and then I fell out-boom!-onto this big pile of moss. I was going to climb back up but I didn't. We could go back there now and play on the slide; see, I drew a map so I'd know the way ..." The Wilderkin briefly displayed a pen-and-ink sketch of tunnels drawn on a scrap of paper, over the words

"Eggs, soap, bread, 2 spools white yam," then continued: "Unless, of course, you have a better idea..." 

"Och, I'm far too old to play on slides," chuckled the Barigan richly. "But I can teach you a new game, if you like."

"Really, Marzipan? A new game! Tell me tell me," enthused the Wilderkin, setting his torch down and sitting on the floor with the Barigan, who winked at him from a bright eye.

"O'course! Yon's a game my father taught me, and his father before him, and his before..."

"What's it called?" asked Dusty. The Barigan smiled, and reached into one of his pouches.

"Tis called,"Riddles,' laddie," he replied mysteriously.

"Oh wonderful!" chirped Dusty. "Great! I know lots of riddles!"

"So do I," said Arcie, with a grin.

In another chamber, the two barbarians huddled together for warmth in the cold dampness of the dungeon.

They had survived the fall quite well, and, there being no immediate danger present, were enjoying the time away from the eyes of their companions.

"I will never leave you, my skybird."

"I love you forever, my frost-eagle."

Valerie marched softly down the tunnel. She came to a large open room, and started across it... then broke into a run as hideous deformed creatures, like walking corpses, rose up from the piles of rubble and shambled in pursuit of her and the amulet she wore.

Tesubar stomped along a corridor crossly. He hated it when this happened. Dumped unceremoniously down tunnels and left to find one's own way out. Well, he wasn't going to stand for it. He was a mage, by the Pentacles, and he wasn't going to stand for it. He was going to teleport back to clearer ground. He stopped, raised his arms, and began to chant.

"Alau kubrek tsthiran malesta feiana... Oooof!" he finished as something crashed into him from behind. Valerie looking over her shoulder to check on the progress of the undead, suddenly ran into the blue-robed mage. A flood of magic whirled around the two of them and shot them through inter-dimensional space. The fiends collapsed into inertness as their power source fled.

The two magic-users materialized in another room that Valerie didn't recognize. They sprang apart and faced each other. Tesubar knew a dark sorceress when he saw one. Valerie was keyed-up enough to blast anything that moved. The two began chanting simultaneously, finishing on almost the same breath.

A wave of frost leapt from the black fingernails of the Nathauan into a sheet of flame generated by the human mage. Steam hissed, and the two combatants, unharmed, glared at each other an instant, then tried again. Words of magic rang through the air. Then two blots of power flashed and bounced across the room in sizzling smoke.

One section of wall turned into a small startled chicken, and a large chunk of the opposite wall shattered into gravel. They tried again. And again.

Steel rang on steel as the two armored knights circled each other, raining blows. Sir Reginald found himself sweating mightily inside his armor. This dark fellow was incredibly skilled, parrying most of the paladin's blows easily with sword and shield. It was all Reginald could do to defend himself equally. They circled the floor, weapons crashing and clanging, the bright-burning blade of the paladin sparking against the deep black sword of the dark knight.

With a sudden blow, Reginald found himself disarmed.

The black sword knocked Starstrike from his hands, sending it skittering across the rubble-strewn room. Oh blast, he thought, and grabbed for his secondary weapon, a heavy mace. It was gone. I must have dropped it in the fall! he thought distractedly. I'm in for it now...

But the knight stopped his attack and backed off, motioning to the sword. Sir Reginald stood up in surprise "By the Shield! You follow the Code! A dark villain like yourself follows the lawful Code ... This is odd," he said, half to the knight and half to himself, as he wonderingly went over to retrieve his still-shining sword. He picked it up, and turned to the knight. "I would know the name of such a man who would do this, sir!" he called.

The knight made no sound. "Ha! Snub me, will you?" roared Sir Reginald and charged back into the fray, blows once more ringing through the hall.

"So," asked Sam, "what's a nice girl like you doing in a dungeon like this?" He smiled his most charming smile and got a coy look in return.

"Well, I think we're looking for you and your friends," Dana purred, her hand on his thigh. Sam carefully put an arm around her waist, and she snuggled against him.

"You've caught me," he said. "But I don't know where the rest of my group are, and I've seen no signs of yours ... do you know the way out of here?"

"No," replied the lady, running her hands over his body through the black silk. "And I certainly hope they don't show up anytime soon." She looked into his eyes seductively.

Dana had both the self-confidence to be certain she could handle (in more ways than one) this good-looking assassin and the ego to feel that that was all men were for anyway. She gripped the man tightly and smothered his lips in a kiss so passionate she didn't even notice the stab of a tiny needle run through her elbow. Her consciousness dissolved in a warm pink mist.

Sam caught his breath and disentangled himself from the lady archer's powerful embrace, letting her slump gently to the floor. He scooped up Dana's dropped torch and hastened away, not stealing anything else from her out of force of habit. He walked quickly through the tunnels, looking for his companions or a way out... she'd be waking up in a few hours, and he wasn't looking forward to encountering her again. 

"All right, I've got another one, I've got another one," enthused Dusty. "Here, match this," he said, digging around in his pocket and hauling out a small sapphire.

Arcie appraised it thoughtfully, then took out of his own pouch an incredibly garish belt buckle, etched in bronze with dragons and pegusi. The Wilderkin's eyes widened in admiration. They put the stakes on the floor between them and the Wilderkin closed his eyes to think better, and recited: Never have I been seen before Soon never to be seen amore A rainbow caught in a dome of sky In air I am born, to air I die.

"Hmm, tricky," admitted Arcie, rubbing his chin in thought.

"You'll never guess it," chirped Dusty gleefully. Arcie thought for a long moment, his auburn-and-silver eyebrows knitting, then snapped his fingers in delight.

"Pop! Soap bubbles!" he exclaimed. The Wilderkin laughed in admiration.

"That's right! You're good at this!" he said with a grin, pushing the stakes over to Arcie's side. "Your turn again."

"Och aye," Arcie replied, and lapsed into thought.

"Well enough, I have got one." He put the belt buckle back into the stakes, and the Wilderkin thought for a moment, then put one of his embroidered cloth pouches in.

Arcie nodded and sat back. He raised a hand for emphasis, and recited:

Wizards and warriors, dragons and kings Flying forever on vast midnight wings Larger than worlds beyond mankind's sight Yet small as a pinprick that lets in the light.

"Wow, that's a hard one too," commented Dusty, twirling a strand of his long hair as he mused. "Hm, let's see, large, small, forever ..."

"Tis really quite easy," apologized Arcie.

"Don't tell me, don't tell me!" squeaked Dusty. "I'm thinking ... I've almost ... Ha! Constellations, right, Marzipan?" He grinned at the Barigan confidently.

Arcie nodded with a wide-eyed smile. "And so it is!

You've really now got the way of it!"

"My turn again!"

In another room, many tunnels away, two magic users faced each other. Frost and soot covered the walls. Several patches of dissipating noxious gases drifted about in the corners. A few uneasy newts padded about on the floor. A large chunk of ceiling had fallen in. A huge block of stone stood in one corner, and a wall of ice was melting on its side on the floor. Purple goo dripped from one wall, and the battered remains of a few magically summoned creatures littered the room.

"Well," said Tesubar after a moment. "I am about done. How about you?"

"Quite," replied Valerie. "The only spell I have left is False Magical Aura."

"I've got Wizard's Logo," offered Tesubar. They looked at each other.

"All right then," said Valerie, and hoarse voices changed, tired hands traced patterns in the air. Valerie caused a perfectly normal tile of the floor to show as magical to those with the sight to see it, and Tesubar left a runic

"T,." etched in soft magical letters on the wall near him. The two mages inspected each other's work, and nodded to each other politely. Then they turned around and walked away in opposite directions down the halls of Putak-Azum.

Elsewhere, the clatter and crash of armor and sword was drawing to a close. Sir Reginald had fought long and hard, but the great black knight seemed tireless, beating him back, blow for blow. He feared not death at the hands of this creature, but dishonor should the knight defeat him and leave him alive to face the humiliation.

His fierce chivalric pride roared in his heart, and he attacked with renewed vigor, battling the dark knight around the room.

The villain countered with blows and defended himself with his magical shield against the flashing sword, and Sir Reginald uttered a silent prayer to the Hero of all paladins, the great Hero Sir Pryse who had defeated so many of the dark forces in the War at the risk of his own life. Save me from dishonor! he thought.

Strength flowed through his arm, and he struck a mighty blow across the other knight's breastplate. The dark figure staggered backward a step, backing heavily into a corner... and the whole corner flipped open into a dark chasm. With a great clattering, the silent knight slid down into the darkness as Sir Reginald slashed triumphantly at the air where he had been.

"Ha! Coward!" he roared. "Come back and fight, you spawn of darkness! Come back and fight!" The trap slid shut as swiftly as it had opened, and Sir Reginald, flushed with success, flipped up his faceplate and sat down, panting for breath. As he sat there, thinking on his victory and murmuring prayers of thanks to his deities, soft footsteps made him look up, gripping his sword in apprehension.

But it was only the blue-robed mage Tesubar, who looked mildly surprised to see him.

Sam ducked into a side tunnel as he heard loud footsteps approaching. A quick glance soon allayed his fears though, and he stepped out to greet Blackmail as the knight wandered down the hallway. "Ho there, Blackmail," he said. "Where have you been?" The mailed shoulders shrugged. Sam noticed that the dark armor had a number of scratches and here and there a dent or two. "Hey, big guy, you look kind of scuffed ... get in a fight?"